


Aftershocks

by northernexposure



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Smut, ever so slightly funny if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 13:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20507933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/northernexposure/pseuds/northernexposure
Summary: Sequel to 'Soft Light'.





	Aftershocks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [devovere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/devovere/gifts).

> Well, I appear to have entered the realm of 'never would happen in a million years' fan fiction, but what the hey. For Devovere because she asked for it (although she was probably expecting something better) unbeta'd because I really didn't want to subject MissyHissy3 to such daftness.

Afterwards, she found it hard to believe that it had really happened at all. It felt unreal, a dream spun out of fever, an out-of-body experience. That didn’t stop her rerunning it in her head, didn’t stop the aftershocks that reverberated through her, over and over, as the ghost of his tongue stroked through a heat that lingered in her, even days later.

Alone in the ready room, staring out at the stars, her vision blurred.

Had it really been her, in that Jeffries tube? Had it really been _him_? It was so far removed from reality that part of her couldn’t be sure. It had happened so fast and she had surrendered so quickly: in the suffocating heat of that darkness, all it had taken was for him to touch his lips against her skin and whisper. 

_Say yes. Say _yes_. _

And she had. 

She had always found him attractive. It was hard to see how any heterosexual woman wouldn’t: it was a plain fact that he was a beautiful man, not to mention powerful in both body and spirit. Janeway had taken in the picture in his Starfleet file as a bare fact, but in the moment that they’d actually stood toe to toe, his physicality had been a swift and surprising punch to her gut. It was a visceral, base reaction that had utterly shocked her; shamed her, even, especially given that quite apart from her position as a Starfleet captain, Mark was waiting for her at home. She’d raised her chin and transformed her defiance of herself into defiance of him. He’d torn his gaze from Tom Paris and the glance he’d given her had turned into a look that had speared a jolt of electricity right into her core.

The last time – the only time, before that – she’d ever felt that kind of instant charge had been when she’d met Justin.

Kathryn had tried not to let herself think about that.

Oh, she’d _tried_.

In that Jeffries tube, though, once the terror of the thought that her entire crew might be dead had been removed, relief had weakened her. And he was right there, _right _behind her, closer than she’d been to anyone for more than a year and a half. His arm had been over her shoulder, sweat glistening on his hot, bare skin, his chest against her back, and then he’d breathed out and he was_ so_ close, _Chakotay_, so _close _that if he put out his tongue he could lick the sweat from her neck–

The instant she’d thought it she was so turned on she could barely get her fingers to work properly.

Not long after that had come the whisper that had been her undoing, and then his tongue had done things to far more interesting parts of her than her neck, and_ then_… _oh_\- 

She turned away from the stars, leaning down to pick up the PADD and coffee mug she’d left on the table. Janeway looked at the screen again, trying to readjust her concentration to take in the facts and figures involved in the report about power delivery to the warp manifold systems.

_Focus,_ she told herself_. Just think about work. Nothing else._

She took a mouthful of her coffee, realised it was cold, and was about to turn towards the replicator when the entrance to the Jeffries tube caught her eye. Kathryn was caught off-guard by a sudden, hot twinge between her legs, and bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to make her eyes water. _That_ was a Pavlovian response she could most definitely do without.

_But his mouth, on her nipple. His fingers caressing her breast as he-_

She sucked in a breath, screwing her eyes shut, as close to all-out panic as she ever let herself get. What the hell was wrong with her? He was her second in command. She was _engaged_. To _Mark_. It had been a horrendous mistake, and the only way to mitigate said mistake was to carry on as normal and forget it had ever happened. He’d said they could do that, and he hadn’t broken his word. Janeway had not seen as much of a hint from him about what had passed between them. Yet so far she hadn’t managed to go a day without some aspect of that insane encounter reasserting itself at the most inappropriate of times. Like now, for instance. In the ready room. When she was supposed to be reading reports about vital aspects of ship’s function.

Janeway groaned, dumped both the cup and the PADD back on the table, dropped back onto the sofa and covered her face with both hands.

_Get a grip,_ she ordered herself. _Get a grip, right now._

The problem was that they’d been out here a long time, she was supremely stressed, and she liked sex. The even bigger problem was that she was out here with a man who had found it terrifyingly easy to make her orgasm three times in the space of twenty minutes, and had apparently taken plenty of pleasure in doing so. Enough that she’d had to tell him it wouldn’t happen again, which suggested that he’d be perfectly willing for it to-

_Shftphst!_

She tried to breathe. Kept her eyes shut. Tried not to think.

Oh yes. Yes, those few moments of weakness had been a terrible, terrible mistake.

_You’re not the only woman on the ship,_ she told herself. _You’re not the youngest, nor the most beautiful, and you’re certainly not the most accessible. He will not be having this problem. In fact, he’s probably already forgotten that it ever happened. Replicate a sex toy and get over this, for goodness’s sake._

Though the idea that there was a sex toy in the universe that could replace Chakotay’s-

Janeway emitted a faint scream of frustration and jerked herself to her feet, grabbing the PADD again and marching down the stairs towards her desk. This would take up no more of her time. She had work to do, a ship to get home, a fiancé waiting for her.

Except… _Chakotay_-

Standing before her desk she tossed the PADD at it in fury, and then had to lunge to stop it from skidding straight off and on to the floor beyond. She just managed to catch it with her fingertips, which was the exact moment that the ready room doors opened.

Kathryn turned her head to look over her shoulder as Chakotay strode in. He stopped dead as the doors slid shut behind him. The easy smile on his face froze as he took in her posture, looking back at him, prostrate over the ready room desk, and-

_-your cock ramming me from behind?_

The phantom filth of the words was so clear in the air between them that it was as if she’d said them all over again. His gaze slid over her with as much heat as his tongue had days earlier.

Kathryn let go of the PADD. It clattered to the floor, breaking the sudden, suffocating silence.

Chakotay quickly turned away. She thought he was leaving, felt relief that was immediately followed by an appalling depth of disappointment. Then she heard his fingers on the control panel of the turbodoors as she pushed herself upright.

He’d sealed them.

Janeway turned and gripped the edge of her desk with both hands. Chakotay kept his back to her. She watched his rigid shoulders as he rubbed one hand over his face.

“Excuse me, Captain,” he said, quietly, still with his back to her. “I just… need a minute.”

It took her a second. The hot stab of desire when she realised what his problem was took her breath away.

“Chakotay…” Her voice had dropped without her realising it. He made a sound, his shoulders tensing even further, and then there were more words in the air between them, no less potent for being only remembered.

_Or maybe you want to hear how many times I’ve thought about sucking your cock? _

Almost before she knew what she was doing, she was crossing the floor and turning him towards her. His eyes were dark, sparking with a lust that only made her own need more potent. Chakotay made no move to reach for her. She’d told him never again. She’d _told_ him that, and yet…

They stared at each other, and she knew.

He hadn’t forgotten any more than she had.

She reached out and ran her fingers over the clear ridge his cock had made in his pants. He flinched, eyes growing even darker, but he still didn’t reach for her.

“Kathryn-“

She reached for his zipper before he had a chance to step away, but when she went to kneel in front of him he grabbed her forearms and hauled her up to face him.

“No,” he said, voice tight and low. “You don’t get on your knees. Not for anyone.”

“Chakotay-“

“You told me this couldn’t happen again.”

“I know.”

“I can’t stop thinking about it. About _you_." 

“Neither can I.”

“Then I guess you’ve still got a need I haven’t met yet. _Captain_.” He backed her up against the bulkhead, quickly, just a little too roughly to be gentle, not letting go of her wrists. “You have to tell me you need this,” he said, lips against her neck. “You have to say it.”

“I don’t need it,” she whispered, hot and ready and in no state to care that her first officer had her up against the wall of her ready room. “I _want_ y-“

Chakotay kissed her, hard, and she felt herself dissolve. He let go of her wrists and she wound her arms around his neck, the kiss going on and on as he deftly undid her uniform pants and smoothed them down, his hands rounding her buttocks as he pulled her against him. He let go briefly, lips never leaving hers as he divested himself of his own uniform. Kathryn wrapped her legs around his waist as he lifted her up and impaled her in one swift, hard movement. She cried out and he clamped one hand over her mouth to block the sound but didn’t stop thrusting, fast, hard, her back up against the wall, his fingers in her mouth, his lips against her throat, other arm around her waist. Kathryn felt the pressure building, that tunnelling of sensation, of focus, like a star beginning to implode, until she folded in on herself, coming apart while he held her there against the wall. She felt him lose control, held his face in both hands and kissed him, swallowing his cry as his legs gave way. They slid to the floor, still tangled together, robbed of breath and clinging to each other. Kathryn dropped her head on to his shoulder and felt his commission pips against her cheek.

“Fuck,” she said, voice cracking as she finally caught her breath. His cock was still throbbing inside her. “Oh fuck, oh _fuck_. This is a nightmare.”

Chakotay leaned back, face flushed, breathing hard. “Don’t say that.”

“I can’t do this. I can’t.”

“It’s all right.”

“It’s not. How can it be?”

“Well,” he said, “maybe next time we could actually try a bed, but other than that…”

“This is not a joke!”

He kissed her then, gently, and the feel of his lips against hers made her heart stutter, which was too absurd for words. 

“I will do whatever you want,” he said, quietly. “But here’s the thing. You’re the best captain I’ve ever served with. You’re the best anyone on this _ship_ has ever served with. And if you think us… doing _this_ every now and then is going to change that then, Kathryn – the sex isn’t what you should be worried about.”

_It’s not,_ she wanted to scream. _It’s not the sex. It’s that charge I felt when we first met. It’s how your arms feel around me, like this, now. It’s how you won’t touch me until I tell you that you can. It’s how willing you are to make this just about what I want. It’s-_

She sucked in a breath and rested her forehead on his shoulder again. Chakotay lifted his hand and gently stroked the back of her neck. It was a more tender gesture than she would expect, and it added to the troubles in her mind more than it eased them.

_I can’t stop thinking about it. About _you_. _

He’d said that. To her. To _her_.

“I’ve got so much I should be doing,” she said.

Chakotay pressed his lips against her temple, so briefly that she could pretend he hadn’t. “I know. Me too.”

They straightened each other up, dusted each other off. Looked at each other in the harsh Starfleet light, both still feeling the aftershocks of what they had done.

“Would you have dinner with me later?” Janeway asked. “My quarters. 2000 hours, say?”

She saw a slight smile dance through his eyes. “That would be nice.”

Her heart stuttered again and she tried to clamp down on it. “I just think… that maybe… if we got to know each other better as friends, perhaps… this,” she waved between them awkwardly, vaguely, “whatever this is… may not be as… potent?”

He regarded her for a moment, and then nodded. “All right.”

“I’ll see you later then. Commander.”

“Aye… _Captain_.”

She tried not to blush. Once he’d left she couldn’t help her gaze straying to that place against the bulkhead where he’d pinned her so very successfully. Janeway winced. The ready room was fast becoming a minefield of memories she could do without remembering quite as vividly as she did. 

She sighed, straightened her jacket, and went to pick up the PADD.

[END]


End file.
